


Tell Me More

by RubenMarcado (KittyCreative)



Category: Do No Harm (TV), In the Heights - Miranda
Genre: A weird au, F/M, Fluff, Lincoln is self concious about his music at first, M/M, New York City, Rube to rescue, This is for the discord group thats fallen into hell with me, he enjoys doing it hes just v nervous, hes sweet, i really like this ship, please give this a read i live for this ship, ruben/nina and ruben/usnavi are just ruben having friends ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 11:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11229819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyCreative/pseuds/RubenMarcado
Summary: Ruben Marcado is trying to find himself after his life is nearly torn to shreds by a blonde haired blue eyed devil.He meets a struggling artist on a plane who needs nothing more than validation.(a soft ship I have so much love for pls give a read I'm desperate.)





	Tell Me More

Even on this dimly lit plane with Ian in jail, Ruben still glanced around carefully as if he expected Ian to pop out and finish the job he started but failed to finish almost a year ago. Luckily, the person who had found a seat next to him was nothing like the blond haired blue eyed devil of a man.

Ruben sighed in relief and leaned back in his chair, tapping on the arm rest and watching through the window as the plane took off and left to its destination, New York.

He was trying to find himself, in all honesty. He was trying to find the parts that had been broken by Ian. It had been a while since he felt whole and he was desperate to feel that way again.

Access to his savings had made it so he could afford a small apartment in the city as well as a plane ticket there. The sweatered man decided he would figure out everything else when he got there and dug a little bit into his stored away money.

As his mind drifted, he wondered about a potential job situation. Ruben knew he would have to get a job eventually if he did want to keep the apartment that he had, but his savings would be more than enough for now.

His thoughts were momentarily disrupted by the man next to him tapping him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me," he asked, pushing a piece of curly hair behind his ear, "do you have a pencil? Sorry if I'm bothering you but I think I left mine at the airport."

Ruben nodded slightly, reaching to get his carry on from under the seat and rummaging around in the bag for a pencil.

"Here," he hummed, handing it over to the man in the yellow shirt who simply smiled in return.

"Thanks, sorry again, it's just pretty hard to write without a pencil," he laughed shoulders shrugging slightly with each exhale and inhale of breath. Ruben smiled too as it was a good point.

"I suppose," he spoke, running a finger absent-mindedly across the long scar along his face before his deep brown eyes shifted back over the the man sitting next to him, "you write?"

"No... well... I write music. It's nothing all that great but I've been working on it."

"Working on it is better than nothing."

"Hah, you're correct there. Though it's nothing really exciting, just a few bland love songs that I'm revising, and some generic 'look at me, I can put words on paper' songs."

"I bet they're not all that bad," Ruben hummed with a soft chuckle as the other man just shrugged and looked at the leather notebook in his hands that he had sitting in his lap since the beginning of the flight.

"Nah, they're pretty bad." Ruben laughed at that a little. They couldn't possibly be that bad. He knew from experience that artists of any sort were never satisfied with their own works.

His sister was a good example of that. His mom had raised him and his two sisters very well and encouraged them in any way possible to so whatever they wanted. One of his sisters decided to pursue art.

Ruben watched as she struggled through trial and error. He watched her succeed as well and, just like their mom, he encouraged her.

He reached into his carry-on, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen and he scribbled down an email, he would do exactly what he felt was right.

"Here," the Mercado son hummed, handing over the piece of paper, "when you finish your songs, email me and I'll tell you what I think."

The man with the tanned skin looked at the paper, then up to Ruben before nodding.

"Alright, but don't expect anything phenomenal."

* * *

 

It had been a long week of sleeping on the floor with an itchy thrift store blanket, waiting for furniture to arrive, and moving said furniture into his apartment before he could finally relax and open up the small Lenovo computer he had purchased.

The first thing he did was relax on the couch and check his email. It had been a year since he had touched this thing and he had over 200+ emails piled up, most were old, but one was fairly recent.

It was an email sent by somebody named 'gayerthannina@gmail.com', which was a fairly unique name which Ruben knew he'd never seen before. Upon inspection, the email contained a bunch of files.

Music files.   
  
As he scrolled down even further, he noticed a note at the bottom that read:

"Hey, I don't know if you remember me- probably not hah. I'm the guy you met on the plane who was talking about his shitty music. OH! And to actually introduce myself, I'm Lincoln and these are my crappy samples. I'm only sending them since you asked I guess. Anyways, have a good day.  
(Ps. I saw the Dr- in your email. Are you a doctor or is it just to make you look fancy? Sorry I had to ask.)"

Ruben smiled and decided he would respond later, as he wanted at the moment to listen to the music samples he was sent.

It took only half an hour for him to power through them all, but in the end, he was pretty surprised. The content was fairly good. Of course, Ruben wasn't the expert at music, but he found that it all sounded nice.

After listening to the drafts, he decided to form a response.

"Hello, Lincoln! I really enjoyed your samples and I was wondering if you could send more? They were a lot better than you said they were. Also, I should probably introduce myself as well. I'm Ruben. And no, the DR in my name is not to make me look fancy. I used to be a clinical pharmacologist."

* * *

 

Daily emails seemed to be normal for them after a month or so. Lincoln would send over new samples, then in return Ruben would talk a little bit about his job search and his new apartment. Lincoln would then share his knowledge about new york from when he grew up.

Eventually, it occurred to Ruben that he hadn't seen Lincoln since the plane ride and he was determined to change that.

Ruben quickly went to open up his computer, typing a sloppy email that spoke.

"Hey Lincoln, coffee?"

The reply came very soon.

"Sure. When and where ?????"


End file.
